Michael even opened his jacket and wrapped it around her as best he could to keep her warm. Through their kisses, all their kisses in the last however many minutes, she’d grown colder by the second. She needed to get inside or at the very least put the damn hat back on, but she was stubborn and full of pride. He couldn’t blame her. He was too when it came to his ball club. He loved them when they sucked, and he loved them when they were on top of their game. It made winning all the sweeter. He nipped at her tongue, a little harder than he’d intended. When she lifted her head and eased her grip on the back of his hair, he smiled at the bright pink of her frozen face. “We need to get you inside.” “I know.” “And my legs are solid ice.” “Can you walk?” She slid off him as she spoke, the move slow as she unbent her own legs from their curled position. He took her proffered hand, doing his level best to stand on his own as much as possible. If he held on to her too tightly and used her to pull himself up, he’d bring them both back down again.
